Page 96 of Morally Gray Daddies

“I am!”

He held me still. “Tell them your name.”

“I’m… I’m Aubrey.”

Fire blistered my nerves as he shook my head sharply. “Your full fucking name, bitch.”

“Aubrey Taryn!”

“And who’s that over there?” He twisted my face toward Sonja.

“My… my friend.”

“And does your friend have a name?” he sneered in a mocking tone.

“Yes.”

“Say it,” he ordered.

“Sonja Delgado!” I cried.

“Sonja Delgado. And is her daddy’s name Antonio Delgado?”

“Yes.”

His face hovered inches from mine, pulled to one side just far enough so my own could be caught by the phone’s camera. “Do you know why this is being done to you?”

“N… no.”

“Well, you see,” he growled, addressing the camera as much as me, “your friend’s daddy has been a very naughty, naughty man. He’s pissed off some very important people in a family he was supposed to be friendly with. They asked me to come here and show him what happens when you don’t treat your associates with the proper amount of respect.”

“Okay.”

“Now, they could have asked me to deliver this message to Mr. Delgado’s daughter directly, but since he’s their friend, and you’re her friend, they thought delivering the message through you would show how valuable it can be to have friends helping friends. You can understand that, can’t you, slut?”

“I… I guess so?”

You guess so?” He jerked my head abruptly. “I know so. So, here’s what’s gonna happen; you’re gonna be a good fucking girl and show Mr. Delgado what could’ve happened to his daughter instead of you if his friends weren’t the nice people they are.”

“Okay, okay, please, I’ll do whatever?—”

He twisted to his side suddenly, partially straddling me. I cried out as he shoved me back into the couch, his forearm pinning me in place across my throat. I struggled as he cut off my breath, but he was so much bigger, heavier, and all I could do was rasp as he threatened to choke me out completely. With his free hand, he grabbed the strap of my bikini top, and with a violent yank he tore one side free. I tried to scream, but all that came out was a hoarse strangle as he repeated the same thing on the other side. Ripping the remains of my swimsuit top, he tossed the torn fabric to the side.

“Fuck.” He smirked, gazing down at my exposed chest. “Look at them beautiful fucking tits.”

Releasing my throat, he dropped his hand to my left breast and began mauling it. Fire radiated outward, five searing tendrils of agony that surged from where his fingers dug into my flesh in a vise-like grip.

I screamed.

“Mmm… you have such nice tits, slut. Do you like it when men play with them? Do you like it when they suck on them? Bite them?”

I knew what he was about to do. It was a dreamlike moment, as if we’d rehearsed what was about to happen.

“I… please…”

He lowered his face and took my nipple into his mouth.

At first, he did what every guy since eleventh grade had done once they got my bra off and their mouth on my boob—he sucked on it. Drew my bud between his teeth and nursed, his tongue laving over it in a swirling motion. I hated how my body reacted as he did, but there was nothing I could do to prevent them from stiffening.

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